


Extraordinarily Ordinary

by Mazriaz



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Drabbles, During the summer, Established Relationship, M/M, Read at Own Risk, Set between Season 2 and 3, Stiles Needs a Hug, Stiles/Derek - Freeform, These two are dumb and i love them, how do tag, i volunteer, oops there are sads in here, puppy piles are the best man, snuggles, stydia is the best brotp no one can tell me different
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-21
Updated: 2013-12-29
Packaged: 2017-12-24 04:43:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 6,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/935502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mazriaz/pseuds/Mazriaz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the Hale pack are idiots</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Teenage Dream

**Author's Note:**

> This is really short sorry. I might make this a collection of teen wolf drabbles i write so yea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahahaha this was only gonna be just this drabble but then thing kept happening and now there are 8 chapters ha ha when did that happen

Stiles and Derek were in the car. There was a tense silence. A conversation had just ended about stiles receiving the bite and both were too stubborn in their beliefs to talk to each other at the moment.

Stiles' add was starting to get to him. His fingers were twitching. He turned on the radio to try and distract himself while driving to the burnt hale house.

"You think I'm pretty without any makeup on"

Stiles nearly choked on his own spit. Katy Perry's Teenage Dream was playing through the speakers. Stiles snuck a glance at Derek, and was surprised to see an amused expression on his face.

"What?" He demanded. The chorus started playing right at that moment.

"This song... It kind of reminds me of us" Derek snickered quietly.

"Imma get your heart racing in my skin tight jeans be your teenage dream tonight. Let you put your hands on me in my skin tight jeans, be your teenage dream tonight"

Stiles burst out laughing and nearly crashed the jeep in his fit of raucous laughter. His eyes were crinkled and that wide grin was spread across his face.

Derek smiled slightly to himself. Seeing his mate that happy made a warmth spread across his chest, and he really needed to stop hanging around Lydia.


	2. Washing Machines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek just stared blankly at his idiotic boyfriend

Derek just stared blankly at Stiles. Over the years, they had gotten more and more used to each other, and each other’s strange tendencies, like Derek sneaking in through the window every other night and Stiles researching things like the full history of the male circumcision. They had caught each other in the weird acts, although Derek mainly did most of the catching. Sometimes he just didn’t even ask, like the time he found Stiles at three am hyperactive on Adderall and Coffee researching how knotting worked or that one time he found Stiles trying to make werewolf friendly dog treats.

This, however, was somehow on a new level of weird. Derek had come in on his usual 9pm sneak in, and saw that Stiles wasn’t in his room, and panicked until he heard Stiles’ heartbeat strong and steady somewhere downstairs. He sighed in relief, and searched for the Sheriff’s heartbeat, and figured he was working a double shift and wasn’t home. So, Derek sauntered downstairs and walked into the kitchen and grabbed a pear, and then walked to the living room expecting to find Stiles sprawled out on the couch, his long limbs hooked over the edge in a spread eagle way. He was surprised to see that the living room empty, and wondered where he could be. He used his nose to find Stiles, and ended up standing outside of the laundry room; or what he assumed was the laundry room, it smelled like laundry detergent and suspiciously like Stiles. He took a deep breath and cracked open the door. He just stared.

His soon-to-be eighteen year old boyfriend was curled up inside the washing machine, long limbs tucked haphazardly against his chest with his hand hanging out of the opening. He could hear his soft breathing and steady heartbeat. He tamped down the urge to laugh and then took out his phone. He snapped a picture of Stiles inside the washing machine then promptly put his phone away. He gently pulled Stiles out and carried him upstairs to his room. He laid the teen on the bed, amused at the way he clung to him like a koala. He shucked off his jacket, jeans, and boots and slid in next to Stiles, wrapping an arm around him and pulling him close. He nuzzled his face into the side of his neck and took a deep breath, inhaling the heady scent that was Stiles. His body fell limp and relaxed, and slowly he began to fall asleep.

“Hey, Stiles, why was the washing machine door ope-“ Stiles cracked an eye open when he heard his dad’s voice. The dawn's weak sunlight was pouring in through the window, momentarily blinding him. He made a shushing motion at his dad and pointed at Derek, who was actually still asleep. The Sheriff rolled his eyes and mouthed ‘we’re talking about this later’ and then walked out of the room, shutting the door softly. Stiles took that as a win, and wondered how he even got in bed. Last he remembered, he was exploring the inner machinations of the washing machine. He shrugged and squirmed closer to Derek. Derek was surprisingly cuddly when he was asleep and only tightened his hold on Stiles in response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> inspired by this gem http://profoundtwerk.tumblr.com/post/60909028244/kampakida-kilehye-striders-in-appliances


	3. Draw Me Like One of Your French Girls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "B-But it is though, you've got that perfect tortured artist vibe, though. Tall, dark and growly with a leather jacket to boot." Stiles couldn't contain himself any longer as he felt small giggles and snorts escaping him. He sat down next to his boyfriend and leaned against him, finally giving in and laughing like an idiot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can't contain myself these drabbles are taking over my mind  
> do you guys want to send me prompts to write little drabbles?  
> cause that would be fun  
> hope you like my headcanon for tall dark and growly over here [derek noises from the left]

"No." Stiles was trying to contain a laugh when he looked at Derek. Derek flushed, the pink almost hidden under his dumb stubble that he pretends to not care about but takes a lot of care into taking care of. The scowl on his face, however, was the cherry on top.

"It's not that funny, Stiles" he said shifting uncomfortably in place. He could feel the amusement rolling off of Stiles in crashing waves, and it hurt that he would think it was funny to do something he loved.

"B-But it is though, you've got that perfect tortured artist vibe, though. Tall, dark and growly with a leather jacket to boot." Stiles couldn't contain himself any longer as he felt small giggles and snorts escaping him. He sat down next to his boyfriend and leaned against him, finally giving in and laughing like an idiot.

"We can't all be computer geniuses like you, Stiles." Derek scooted away from him slowly. He set the sketchbook and charcoal on the floor and crosses his arms over his chest, pointedly not looking at Stiles, a scowl etched into his face. Stiles blinked and looked at him, most of the laughter gone. 

"Wait, Derek, nonono, I'm not laughing because I think art is dumb, I'm laughing because it fits you perfectly. Since all you do is lurk in dark corners and scowl- hey don't look at me like that, you know you do that, I would've thought something more along the lines of like, I don't know, a filthy rich bank owner or something? I don't know you seem to have a lot of money to spend if you have that many leather jackets." Stiles was rambling now.

"I only have two." Derek replied indignantly, not paying attention the rest of what Stiles was saying. Stiles snorted.

"Plus the one you gave me and the one that got ripped to shreds in the fight with the pixies, and all the ones that are in New York." He grinned at Derek, knowing his rebuttal was true. Derek flushed more.

"So?" Stiles sighed and wrapped his long arms around Derek, resting all his weight on him.

"What I'm trying to say is that being an artist is totally cool and that I'm not laughing at you and that you have way too many leather jackets for your own good, even if they do make you look even more ridiculously sexy ."

Derek snorted quietly and slowly leaned back against Stiles so that his head was tucked under his chin and his back was flush against Stiles' chest and breathed in the scent of safety and home and pack. He reached over and grabbed his sketchbook and charcoal and slowly resumed the sketch he had been working on. It was a drawing of how the Hale house had looked before the fire from memory. Stiles surprisingly stayed still, save for the slow rise and fall of his chest and would've thought he'd fallen asleep if he hadn't been running his fingers through Derek's hair and artfully messing it up. After a while of silence, Stiles finally broke the silence.

"Hey Derek?" He asked softly.

"Hm?" He murmured, glancing back at him. As soon as the shit eating grin spilled onto Stiles' mole speckled face, Derek knew what he was going to say.

"Draw me like one of your French girls, Jack." He said in a higher pitched voice. Derek made a long suffering sigh and shook his head.

"You're ridiculous"

"You love me anyways"

"Yea"


	4. Red Pillow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The only thing that actually stuck out in his room was a bright red fuzzy pillow that had precedence on the bed. It was stuffed almost to the point of bursting and the seams looked like they could use a bit of restoration. To anyone who didn’t know Stiles well enough, they’d assume it was just a spur of the moment buy while in the furniture store, and as many times that Stiles _does_ do that, the red pillow was very special to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> laughs into space  
> the angst  
> i don't honestly know where i was going with this chapter  
> *shrugs* *throws the sads at you* goodbye space cowboy

Stiles had never been one to match anything very well. You could just look at the way he dressed and be able to tell. However, his room actually adheres to a color scheme of light blue, and no matter how many times Ms.McCall would call it powder blue, Stiles would deny it, and different shades of gray. You could say, that his room includes fifty shades of gray. The only thing that actually stuck out in his room was a bright red fuzzy pillow that had precedence on the bed. It was stuffed almost to the point of bursting and the seams looked like they could use a bit of restoration. To anyone who didn’t know Stiles well enough, they’d assume it was just a spur of the moment buy while in the furniture store, and as many times that Stiles _does_ do that, the red pillow was very special to him.

The pillow was made by his mother. Claudia had been bored out of her mind while in the hospital between her treatments so she convinced them into smuggling fuzzy red fabric, red thread and a small sewing kit into her room, and proceeded on making the pillow. She always said it was bright red to mimic Stiles’ explosive personality. Stiles had watched her work on the pillow, often falling asleep to his mother humming the tunes of various Beatles songs while she worked. She stitched her initials, C.S into the corner in blue thread in the bottom corner of the pillow. Fatefully, she finished the pillow the day before her last.

Scott asked about it only once; after Stiles told him his mother had made it, he never commented on it again. For the next few weeks at all of their sleepovers, Stiles would bring his red pillow and refuse to use another pillow. Melissa had started to stay something but Scott shook his head and mouthed _Auntie Claudia_ at her, and she then proceeded to close her mouth and not say anything. Stiles always preferred that pillow, but he slowly started to lose the obsession that he once held of it.

Years and Years later when Derek had wormed his way into Stiles’ life and started climbing in through the window to demand information from him, he had constantly wondered about the red pillow. Under Stiles’ overpowering scent lay the very faint scent of lavender and ginger snaps. He never commented on it, because every time he saw Stiles look at the pillow, he smelt Stiles get sad and then cover it up quickly. He surmised it had been from his late mother’s, but never asked to confirm because Stiles’ mother was a very sensitive topic, as was Derek’s family.

After they started getting to know each other better, however, Derek felt it would be alright if he asked about the pillow. They had already talked a bit about their respective deceased relatives, so he felt it wouldn’t be too invasive. So, one night while they were watching a movie, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (Stiles’ favorite of course, because Sirius and Remus and Harry’s Dad and the Marauders in general were so cool), Derek kissed Stiles’ cheek gently and murmured, “Hey Stiles?”

“Hm?” Stiles glanced back at him slowly and smiled softly.  
“What does the C.S on your red pillow mean?” Derek asked, petting Stiles’ hair when he felt him grow stiff against him.  
“Uh.. It stands for Claudia Stilinski.. ‘Cause my mom made it for me. When she was uh.. Sick.” He replied. Derek felt bad when grief started tinging Stiles’ scent.  
“She must’ve been really great at sewing, that pillow’s still holding up after your relentless use of it for years now. Very uh.. durable.” He said awkwardly.  
“Yea..” Stiles trailed off, snuggling closer to Derek.  


“If it makes you feel any better, Laura bought me a black wolf stuffed animal that she tried to sew my initials into but gave up halfway through the h because she pricked herself too many times. Which I still have.” Derek murmured into Stiles ear, nuzzling closer. Stiles huffed a small laugh.

“I’m naming it Sourwolf. It’s official.” Stiles was smiling slightly, the sadness mostly gone from his scent. Derek rolled his eyes.

“His name is Rollin.” He replied.

“Rollin? Really? That’s what you go with? Why not something like Maximilian, or Julius?”

“It’s my dad’s name.”

“Oh”

“Yea."

…

“Hey Derek?” Stiles turned onto his stomach and nuzzled his face into his neck.

“Yea?”

“When we get your stuff from New York, I get to be the first one to see Rollin.” Derek laughed quietly and nodded.

“Whatever you want, Stiles.”


	5. one step forward, two steps back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *throws more angst at you*  
> ahahah a ow this hurts my feelings  
> idk i just got stiles/scott emotions and then that happened  
> obviously set between season two and three but before boyd and erica are taken and au where jackson stays and becomes pack instead of going to london  
> hope you like it  
>  _see you space cowboy_

Stiles was sad. It wasn’t the ‘I failed a test’ kind of sad, nor was it the ‘I broke my laptop, fuck’ type of sad. It was the ‘shit, my mom is slowly fading away from my life and is dying’ type of sad; except, it wasn’t his mom. It was Scott. Wonderful Scott, who he had met in kindergarten because Jackson was being mean to Stiles so Scott swooped in and saved him. The Scott who had helped him through the panic attacks he had after his mom died. The Scott he had helped through his parent’s divorce. The Scott who had been his best friend for as long as he could remember. Scott, wonderful, loyal, kind Scott, was slowly fading out of his life. 

It really all started when Scott first met Allison. He was head over heels in love with her from the very beginning and it was as Romeo and Juliet as you could get. At first, it wasn’t a big deal, Stiles was happy for him. Scott got his first girlfriend, and it was great. Stiles got to live vicariously through him for a short while before it started getting old. ‘Allison this’ ‘Allison that’ ‘Sorry man, gotta rain check, Allison and I are gonna go to…’ ‘Oooh, sorry man me and Allison were gonna…’ ‘Hey Stiles can we reschedule our bro night? Allison wanted to…’ ‘Allison is so pretty, with her long brown hair, and Disney princess smile, and the way she giggles when you touch her…’ Stiles was sick of it. Sick of how his best friend since forever was ditching him for a girl who he had known for a few weeks, _whose dad was actively trying to kill werewolves,_ , which, newsflash, is what Scott is. And then there was Isaac. 

He could mostly deal with the Allison problem, but Isaac. Mother fucking Isaac. If Isaac wasn’t basically stealing what little time Stiles got to spend with Scott, they probably would’ve been great friends. Honestly, the guy had a wit sharper than a knife and knew how to wield it. But of course, there’s always something. ‘Hey can Isaac come with us to the park?’ ‘Sorry man, me and Isaac are going out for a run later, maybe tomorrow? It hurt. It really fucking hurt. 

So, naturally he went and found other friends. Well, friend. Surprisingly, said friend came in the form of Derek Hale. If you had told him that he was friends, best friends even, with the Derek Hale, he would've laughed so hard that he would almost pass out from lack of oxygen. Derek Hale, who threw him into walls and constantly threatened to rip his throat out… with his teeth (and had it been anyone else, he would’ve made some joke about having a neck fetish, which now that he thinks about it, werewolves probably have a neck fetish because the whole ‘I’m submitting to you oh mighty alpha-) anyways, the point was, a few months ago Derek was an asshole who had a phobia of full length sentences and any piece of clothing in the category of not monochrome and black. That was before he knew Derek though. Well, he knew Derek, talked to him a few times, but he never really _knew _Derek. He hadn’t yet uncovered the dry wit, nor had he found the sassmaster within, and don’t even get him started on the facial expressions, holy god. Derek could stop wars and cure cancer with the smile that’s all teeth and crinkled eyes and raised eyebrows that makes him look like an honest to god puppy.__

And where there was one, the other would soon follow. As Stiles started spending more and more time with the alpha, he began hanging out with Erica and Boyd too. Erica’s lewd humor rivaled his own and Boyd’s calm demeanor resembled a brick wall that Stiles would use to crash himself into to stop himself in times of panic. He very slowly warmed up to Isaac, mainly when he hung out with him separate than Scott. Wit knife. Very sharp, insanely hilarious. Hell, Jackson eventually became part of the pack and he and Stiles would banter back and forth good naturedly. He and Jackson were at the point where they could argue with facial expressions from across the room. Soon, he was starting to feel normal again, well, as normal as he could when all his friends were werewolves anyways. 

So of course that’s when things started going bad again. Soon, Scott started noticing that Stiles was actually starting to raincheck too. Scott seemed surprised. And angry. ‘Stiles, they’re bad news, you shouldn’t hang around them’ ‘Stiles… Jackson???’ And that’s where the first fight between Stiles and Scott had had in the eleven years that they’d known each other had started. It was like Scott was surprised that Stiles could make friends that weren’t him. Stiles was hurt. Stiles finally, _finally _had a group of friends he could rely on, to save his life or a spot between Derek and Erica in the ridiculous puppy piles they had on movie nights. He finally had people who wouldn’t ditch him for a girl they met a few weeks ago. That would actually listen to his input, more often than not. That wouldn’t hang up on him in a life or death situation to continue having sex with the Juliet to his Romeo. He just _couldn’t_ understand why Scott was so mad at him. __

Stiles was sad. He gained five great, amazing, terrific friends, but he was losing his best friend. 


	6. Birthday Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oops

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they're in derek's loft btw  
> and my headcanon is that derek is a summer bby ok so shush  
> i felt bad about the sads so i threw in funny stuff along with mild porn uvu  
> <3   
> btw u can blame my friend jennie for making me listen to katy perry unironically   
> (also the idea of derek singing along to Roar by Katy Perry was something i found on tumblr but i couldnt find the post so ye )

Stiles woke up in increments. First he felt soft sheets caressing his body, making him feel like a caterpillar in a cocoon. Next he heard the shower running, the soothing pitter patter relaxing him in his hazy state of limbo between sleep and wakefulness. Soon he could feel sunlight on his eyelids, making the insides of his eyelids look reddish pink. Later he could feel stickiness on his stomach and made a face. Lastly came his conscious thought. He remembered the events of last night and blushed furiously while a pleased grin wormed its way onto his face. Last night was Derek’s birthday, and of course, that meant amazing birthday sex. Stiles thought he saw the sun rising through the window when they finally settled down to sleep. Speaking of which, where was said birthday boy? Stiles felt a distinct lack of tall dark and growly in his bed, the somewhat coldness of the sheets where o mighty alpha was laying left him pouting. Then he remembered the shower and rolled his eyes. 

He slowly stood up and stretched, yawning loudly and blinking the sleep from his eyes. His ass didn’t feel sore like he expected, and he snorted when he realized that Derek must’ve done the pain-sucky thing. He scratched his side absentmindedly and made a face when he remembered that they forgot to clean up. To be fair they were both ready to pass out by the time Stiles had come for the fifth time and Derek his fourth, but still… _gross._ He picked up his shirt and wiped most of the goop off of his stomach and in-between his thighs. Then he got a brilliant idea. Why didn’t he just go join Derek in the shower? Maybe he could convince Derek into making breakfast or maybe they could go for round whatever they were on at that point. He slowly started walking to the master bathroom and was about to open the door when he heard something that almost made him choke on his own spit. 

The peppy tones of Katy Perry music came from inside the bathroom. Stiles covered his mouth with his hands shaking with silent laughter. He was red in the face from containing his laughing when the chorus came to an end and Derek’s voice joined Katy’s on ‘Roar’. Stiles nearly lost it. He ran outside of the bedroom and to the downstairs bathroom, bypassing Isaac’s room and slamming the door, finally letting himself laugh. 

Derek was great at _many_ things. Controlling his wolf, slamming people (Stiles) into walls, scowling, giving head, growling people into submission, and much more, so it wasn’t a surprise that he was completely tone deaf. The man couldn’t match a pitch to save his life. Not that Stiles could talk, but that’s not the point. The point was that his boyfriend was completely ridiculous.

Stiles finally calmed down enough and stood up, noticing that he was still naked. Oops. He ran back up to Derek’s room and glanced wearily at the bathroom door, before deciding _fuck it_ and walking in. He stepped into the hot stream of water and wrapped his arms around Derek’s middle, grinning slightly at the slight jump he made. He hooked his chin over Derek’s shoulder and pulled him close.

“Morning O Mighty and Powerful Alpha.” Stiles snorted. Derek huffed and turned around in Stiles’ grip kissing him chastely in reply. Stiles grinned and kissed his lips repeatedly, melting at the lift in the corners of Derek’s lips. 

“It’s four pm, Stiles.” He said, rolling his eyes. 

“And who’s fault was that?” Stiles replied, looking up at him smugly.

“Yours, you looked good enough to eat so I did.” Stiles just wanted to kiss the shit eating grin off Derek’s stubbly face. So he did. 

The kiss slowly moved from the soft movement of lips and gentle scrape of stubble to heated touches and lip nibbling. Derek picked Stiles up by the backs of his thighs effortlessly and gently pressed him against the wall, grinding their somehow already hard dicks together in a delicious slew of heat and friction and wetness. Derek left marks up and down Stiles’ already abused neck (damn alpha’s and their need to mark territory, his dad was gonna make him go through the safe sex talk again when he saw the canvas of hickeys and bite marks Derek left), even going so far as to make some already there bruises darker. Stiles groaned helplessly, rocking into Derek and losing himself in the sensations and somewhere in the back of his mind he silently thanked Scott for asking Isaac to stay over for a night of first person shooters and Doritos. 


	7. Go the fuck to sleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> throws the fluff at you  
> idk its midnight and i'm tired so i just started typing and then the thing happened  
> oops

Stiles yawned his way through the last few pages of the Argent bestiary. It was nine am on Sunday morning, and he just spent the better part of the last twelve hours reading and translating the last of the bestiary-Lydia had taught him Latin (it was a weekend and the pack was out training and they were bored so why not)-. He sat back and sighed staring at the fifty pages he had typed out on a word document. He blinked sleepily, his eyes glazed over, staring at the wall yet not seeing anything. He slowly stands up and rubs his eyes. He looks down at his clothes and wrinkles his nose. 

The last time he took a shower was Friday night after practice, so he was feeling gross in his clothes. He shuffled into the bathroom hissing at the freezing cold tile under his feet. He turned the water on to the hottest setting and waited until the bathroom started fogging up until he stripped. He dialed down the heat and stepped into the stream of hot water. He stood under the pounding water for who knows how long before he snapped out of his daze. He picked up his non-scented shampoo (approved by werewolves) and lathered it into his hair letting his blissfully blank mind float along strings of consciousness. After he rinsed out his hair, he glanced at the almost full bottle of conditioner-also non scented- sitting on the rack and shrugged, grabbing it. He poured a generous amount onto his palm and set upon working it into his hair. 

He had grown it out, too busy with werewolf business to bother with the usual buzz cut. His bangs fell a little past his eyebrows when wet and down and the rest of his hair fell to just under his ear. He usually gelled it up, though. Although it was more work, he liked it better than his old buzz-cut. The wily strands of hair suited his equally wily mind. Or so said Lydia anyways. They had started hanging out after Jackson joined the pack, mainly because they were the only humans in said pack, and because their incredibly sharp minds drew them together like a moth to a flame. She was actually the one who made Stiles and Derek get their heads out of their asses and finally ask each other out. 

Shit. Speaking of Derek, he was supposed to meet him later. Stiles glanced at the water-proof watch on his wrist to see that he still had around six hours until their date- ahem. Information swapping meet. Oh screw it, it’s totally a date under the guise of a meeting. Stiles yawned and rubbed himself down with soap until he deemed himself clean. He stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around himself. He always turned off the water after he was wrapped up in a towel, so he wouldn’t freeze to death in his igloo of a house. He walked back into his room and dug through his drawers until he found a fresh pair of boxers and one of Derek’s shirts that always somehow got left at his house. He slipped them on then walked back over to the computer. He saved the translated bestiary a grand total of five times, each to a flash drive, his hard drive, and to a cloud server. He nodded to himself then shut his laptop. 

He flopped onto his bed and tugged the covers over his tired body. He blindly grabbed for his phone and set an alarm so that he would wake up with at least half an hour before he had to go meet up with Derek. When it was all done, he shoved his phone under his pillow then in five seconds flat, Stiles was dead to the world with snoring to boot.

\-- 

Derek was worried; Stiles was never late. In fact, he was always early; annoyingly so. He checked his watch again. _3:20 pm._ Derek got up quickly and walked out of the coffee shop, slipping into the Camaro and driving off to the Stilinski residence. His mind was formulating different worse case scenarios, each worse than the last. By the time he got to Stiles’ house, he was almost quivering with fear that something bad had happened to his boyfriend, his pack-mate, _his_. mate. He jumped out of the car and climbed up the side of the house, to Stiles’ window and slipped inside.

As soon as he entered, he was hit by the sound of his boyfriend’s ridiculous snoring and instantly he relaxed. He closed the window behind him and sauntered over to the bed, the corners of his mouth curling upwards at the site of Stiles starfished on the bed with a hand hanging off the edge of the bed and his other arm draped over his eyes. His mouth was wide open, his breath coming steady and strong. His wolf howled in happiness when he noted that Stiles smelled like him, probably due to the charcoal wife beater Derek left there the other day hanging off his lithe frame. 

Derek slowly sat down on the bed and ran his hands through Stiles’ slightly damp hair. At the contact, Stiles rolled onto his side and wrapped himself around Derek. He rolled his eyes, smirking slightly. He leaned down, words forming on his tongue to wake his boyfriend up. 

“The Sheriff had a hamburger with bacon and curly fries yesterday.” As soon as the words left his mouth, Stiles shot up like a bird, a frown etched into his face. 

“I keep telling him no- Oh.. Derek? What are you doing here? I was supposed to meet you at three- shit! Sorry, I kind of stayed up all night translating the bestiary and I ended up falling asleep a few hours ago and I lost track of time and-” Derek cut him off with a quick peck on the mouth. 

“Go back to sleep dumbass, you need it” 


	8. get your snuggle on

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> puppy piles are the best man uvu  
> gotta get your snuggle on

Oh my god how was this his life? A little over a year ago his life had been pre-cal, lacrosse, and pining after Lydia with Scott as his only friend. Now , he has 8 best friends who are all werewolves, except for Lydia but her brains more than compensated for her lack of wolfiness, and he was a spark, which according to Deaton was basically like the albino of the witches, and he didn't love Lydia anymore. Wait, scratch that. He still loves Lydia, but it's a platonic friend love that Stiles actually prefers over the romantic interest he had in Lydia. Damn that girl was terrifying. And he had a boyfriend. An amazingly terrific lava hot boyfriend who acted like a grump all the time but was actually the biggest softie out of all of them. 

All this rolled around Stiles' mind while he settled in between Derek and Erica on the already ridiculous pile of people lying on Jackson's ridiculously huge king sized bed. It was the perfect place for their puppy piles considering it was the biggest bed most of them had ever seen. Isaac climbed in on Derek’s other side and draped an arm across his and Stiles’ chests snuggling closer, a content smile on his face. Scott settled in behind Isaac, spooning him like the big dork he is. Boyd picked Erica up gently and settled down next to Stiles and laying her on top of him, wrapping his large arms around her. Jackson took his place next to Boyd and Lydia settled in next to him, a genuine smile splayed across her beautiful face. Danny curled up behind Lydia hooking a leg over hers and intertwining his fingers with Jackson's. Legs got tangled and no blankets were needed considering the six werewolves with superior body heat. 

Stiles slipped a hand up Derek’s shirt, resting his hand on his stomach. It wasn’t a sexual touch, it was more of a comfort of skin to skin contact. Derek’s eyes were closed but Stiles knew he was still awake. He didn’t tell anyone but he knew Derek loved being able to sense his pack’s happiness and warmth after everything they had been through and always lay awake for around half an hour just smiling into Stiles’ collarbone and listening to his packmates slowly drift off into dreamworld. It was nice, y’know? Not everything always had to be blood and panic and life threatening situations to bond as a pack. 


	9. The Lydia Martin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i haven't posted anything in a while oops  
> anyways i was in a stydia mood and then that happen  
> grump derek is best derek  
> also its rlly short 
> 
> *jazz hands* _until we meet again space cowboy_

When Stiles thought of Lydia, he used to think of her gorgeous strawberry blonde locks and mind-blowingly intelligent mind. He thought of the way she simply oozed confidence out of every perfect pore in her body. He thought of how Jackson was nowhere near deserving Lydia’s attention. He thought of how good he could be to her if she just acknowledged him. But never did he ever truly think he had a chance with her. Only perfect, beautiful people interacted with other perfect, beautiful people, and everyone else had to admire from afar. He realized this in geometry class back in eighth grade. Yea, it hurt, but not as much as it would have if he did something idiotic trying to win Lydia’s attention. Sure, he still had his ten year plan (scratch that, now fifteen), but that was mostly for appearances. It would arouse suspicion if he suddenly abruptly stopped chasing after the girl of his dreams when he clearly still loved her. And he did still love her. Just… in a more platonic sense. He wants to be friends with her. He wanted to figure out how her mind ticked. He wants to be the one she comes to with a gallon of ice cream and The Notebook on a rough weekend. He wants to be there for her like he thinks no one has. So when Lydia asks one day during movie night about his fifteen year plan, Stiles just laughs and says he already has what he’s wanted. Derek grumps like the jealous baby he is and tugs his Stiles closer, nosing into his neck. Stiles rolls his eyes and murmurs that he’s only got eyes for a certain grumpy alpha and shifts closer to him, sighing contentedly.


	10. The other Stilinski

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Stiles told people he had a twin, no one really believed him. Except of course his dad and Scott and Melissa of course. Everyone always thought he was lying when he talked about his brother who was living with his grandparents up in Oregon. Nobody really knew that Dylan really existed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk this was typed up around midnight he also this one is in a different au than all the rest

When Stiles told people he had a twin, no one really believed him. Except of course his dad and Scott and Melissa of course. Everyone always thought he was lying when he talked about his brother who was living with his grandparents up in Oregon. Nobody really knew that Dylan really existed. 

In sophomore year, things got a little hairy _hah_. Scott got bitten by Peter and Stiles' world got thrown off kilter. Then Jackson turned into a giant lizard and things got really shady for a while. Then Derek bit broken teenagers and tried to fight the alpha pack. They won eventually, and got an extra Hale out of it, but their wounds were slow to heal. Scott and Allison were still on and off and on and off and on and off and so on and so forth. Stiles' life went back to normalcy. Or what normalcy that can be achieved of a guy who hangs out with werewolves. 

So of course in the summer before senior year, Dylan comes a knockin'. The whole pack is freaked the fuck out when they think they see Stiles wearing glasses walking down street smelling nothing like them. They all run back to the Stilinski home to see Stiles asleep on his bed buried in a bunch of papers in Archaic Latin. It eventually clicks in Scott's brain and he laughs nervously. 

"Uh... Yea, um... Stiles uh.. He... Kindofhasatwinbrother?" He rushes out, much to the pack's discontent. Erica smirks slightly. 

"Oohh, twice the eye candy to leer at." She grins. Boyd flicks the back of head and rolls his eyes. Stiles wakes up and promptly falls out of the bed when he notices the room full of werewolves. 

"I should be used to this by now, but I don't think I ever will be." The sentence is punctuated by the doorbell ringing downstairs. Stiles groans and runs his hands through his hair. 

"If you guys are here then that means you know."he sighs loudly. "Please don't hate me even more than you do now, he's like Jackson but gets LOTR references. Ugh. " Stiles gets up off the floor and stomps down the stairs with the pack in tow and opens the door letting Dylan in. 

"Jesus Christ, Genim, you have attractive friends what the fuck?" 

"Wow not even a hello, Dylan? " 

"Nah" Ugh the asshole was staring straight at Derek not even bothering to hide the lust in his eyes. 

"Genim? And my my, can I bite this one?" Everyone except Dylan glared at Peter, who had materialized at the door.

"No!" They all exclaimed. 

Dylan glances at Peter and makes a disgusted face. 

"What are you? 50? That's gross."

"41 actually, and I prefer the term: Silver fox. I retract my earlier statement, let's hand him to the Argents. " Cora and Stiles nod in agreement. 

"Okay, let's all just pretend I don't know what's going on for a moment, and hey look we don't have to pretend because what the fuck?" Dylan interrupts the tense silence. 

"Werewolves, and yes their wolfiness gives them superhuman attractiveness. Now go away and hang out with Dad I have Archaic Latin to translate." Stiles grumps and walks back upstairs. Scott flashes fangs and his golden eyes at Dylan and everyone laughs at his expression. Dylan stands speechless as his brother and many attractive people go back up the stairs. 

"What the fuck just happened?" 

"Language, Kiddo. And now you know how I feel." The sheriff said, coming inside for his lunch break. He patted his son's shoulder. "It's good to have you back, Dylan." 


	11. C'mon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its been eighty four years since I last posted anything sorry have a this
> 
> Chapter title is the title of a song by Fun and Panic at the disco that I listened to on repeat while I wrote this

Derek and Stiles took up most of the couch; Derek lay across the couch, stretched out , with Stiles laying on top of him, limbs tangled up in Derek's. Stiles was starting to nod off and Scott and Isaac were already asleep sharing the loveseat and leaning against each other. The only noises in the room were the quiet noises emitting from the tv and Scott snoring softly into the crook of Isaac's neck. The only one still mostly awake was Derek, and even he was starting to slip under the warm blanket of sleep.

Grudgingly he untangled himself from his boyfriend and stood up, shuffling over to the love seat. He picks Isaac up first and heads up the stairs. Somehow he managed to open the door to Stiles' room without jostling and/or dropping Isaac. He sets Isaac down under the blankets and keeps one of the corners turned up for when he brings Scott up in a moment. It was a little more awkward considering their relationship was much different with Scott than it was with any of his other betas..

He eventually made it back to Stiles and when he sees that he had taken the blanket and cocooned himself in it, curling up slightly, he snorts. He rolls his eyes fondly and sets about uncurling Stiles carefully enough so that he doesn't wake him up. He then lays down and wraps an arm around his waist pulling him close and nosing right behind Stiles's ear, making a content noise. He closes his eyes and slowly drifts off into the land of the sleeping..

* * *

Dim light filtered in through the curtained window behind Derek's head, making dancing patterns on the walls Derek glanced down at Stiles and the corners of his lips threatened to curl upwards. Stiles was laying haphazardly on Derek, limbs akimbo, one foot laying over the edge of the couch; his head was nestled in the crook of Derek's shoulder. The slow steady thumps of his heart lulling Derek back to sleep..

The incoming sounds of an engine made Derek pop his eyes open. The sheriff was coming home from his night shift. Fuck. He resigned himself to the fact that the sheriff was going to find out about them. Derek then relaxed as much as he could and pretended to be asleep. Stiles and him weren't in that much of a compromising position; they were both fully clothed and Stiles was snoring like it was nobody's business. So it shouldn't be too bad. Hopefully..

* * *

John pulled into the driveway and yawned. It had been a long night and he was ready to just face plant on his bed and sleep for all eternity. Paperwork can do that to you. So when he opened the door and walked into the living room and saw his underage son asleep on a criminal, exonerated he had to remind himself, he just turned and walked straight into the kitchen to pour himself a glass of whiskey. He walked back into the living room after a moment and sighed. He gently shook his son's shoulder trying to wake him up but not all the way. That way he wouldn't be awake enough to lie. It worked all the time..

"Son, why are you laying on Derek Hale?".

"S'my boy-" a yawn the size of California left his mouth before he continued "friend. Meant to tell you... While ago." John blinked..

"You do realize he's like six years older than you? And that you're a minor? And that hes a cri- and that he's been exonerated for murder ?" John asked somewhat worried about the answer..

"Yea " another yawn punctuated his sentence as he rearranged himself closer to Derek. "Tha's why he won't go any farther than kissing. Doesn't want ... To do what Kate did to him" he could see his son drifting back to sleep and sighed..

"Are you happy with him, Stiles?".

After an almost imperceptible nod he started once more , "I trust him with my life... and I really care ... About him." John pinched his nose. Okay, he could deal with this. If Stiles really cares about him, then that's okay..

The sheriff climbed up the stairs and passed Stiles' room only to see Scott and Isaac asleep on the bed, back to back. He just shook his head and his thoughts wandered to Claudia and how well she would've felt with this. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and went into his own room and decided to not deal with anything at all until after he's woken up in a few hours and had a nice strong cup of coffee.


End file.
